Pieces of a Whole
by Sweet Emii
Summary: Dean looses his parents tragically and find himself the guardian of his young brother. Cas lost his wife and son and finds himself with two new housemates. The two men find themselves stumbling into a relationship and each other's painful pasts. Destiel
1. That We've Lost

**Pieces of a Whole : 1 : That We've Lost  
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AN: Here's an idea that had been rolling around my head. I thought I would honor it with a story. I hope you like it!

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><p>Dean loved his new family. He loved his step-mother, his new baby brother Samuel, and welcomed them with open arms. Although he had more or less left the nest, he visited the family often and tried his best to connect with them. However, they only managed to feel like an extended family to him which wasn't bad considering the situation which him living several hours away.<p>

He had a great life. He had a stable job fixing cars, houses, and anything else that needed fixing. He was basically the go-to guy for the town and was even on the edge of starting his own business.

He lived with his 5 year girlfriend, Lisa. Lisa had a lovely son, Ben, who she had as a young teenager whose father had abandoned the day he heard the news, the bastard. However, Dean was happy to take up the reigns and raise the child as best he could.

They were in no way rich. In fact, they were barely making ends meet. With the money it took for Dean to start his company and Lisa still in college living on what little money her parents sent her every month, there were difficulties. However, they were generally happy.

Since Ben had gotten sick the day before, Lisa disagreed to driving all the way to Dean's parent's house for their monthly visit. Plus, it was raining pretty hard.

However, instead, his parents decided to drive down to see them since Dean's mom had wanted to check out the new renovations on their fairly small apartment.

Dean should have said no but he didn't.

Three hours later, Dean received a call. "I'm sorry to tell you but there's been an accident." His blood ran cold and his life changed right then and there.

They rushed to the hospital. They did not make it in time. Both his parents had passed away by the time their car had pulled into the parking lot.

It had never occurred to Dean what would happen if something happened to his parents. Well, it did in the sense he knew where all the information is, who to contact, and how to go about dealing with their will; however, never in his wildest nightmares did he consider they would actually pass away in such a manner.

His step-mother was a nurse and a health nut. She made sure they had their regular checkups. She made sure his dad's body was fit as it could be for their age. Dean had imagined plenty of warning time before their passing. Maybe it would have been cancer, a bad MRI, or something.

This, however, this was unbelievable. This was a world of hurt and disbelief.

He didn't even consider Sam yet, not until he reached the hospital. He ran ahead of Lisa, searching for answers of his family's whereabouts.

John and Mary had crossed an intersection when a drunk driver ran a red light. He nearly crash into him but didn't. However, that was enough for John to lose control of the car and send it thrown against the side of the bridge they were just entering and head-first into the bank of the river below. The front of the car was totaled. The backseat luckily was fairly unharmed. Mary was dead at the scene and John near death. Sam had been locked in the car with them the whole hour it took the paramedics and firefighters to get there and force the doors open to get them out.

The moment Dean saw his huddled half brother wrapped in a ball of blankets on the ground next to some chairs, he knew. He knew he was going to take care of the boy if it was the last thing he did. Because when he arrived in the room, Sam's eyes locked onto him, he jumped up, pushed pass the worrying nurses, and ran straight into Dean's arms. No convincing or pulling or gentle persuasion could convince the boy to let go.

The next few days were a nightmare not only because of the funeral. There was also Lisa, the money, and Sam.

Lisa had been happy to accept Sam into the family at first. She treated him with care and tried her best to connect with the young boy. However, the 6-year old did not respond to anyone but Dean. He would not eat food not given to him by Dean. He would not talk to anyone but Dean. He would not go to sleep until Dean tucked and waited for him to fall asleep. In fact, Dean had to take him to work every day because the boy locked himself in the closet the whole day he was gone, screaming bloody murder whenever Lisa touched him. It frustrated Lisa to no end.

Then there was the money left to him by his parents. His parents were never very rich. They live a comfortable enough life. He used the money after selling the house to pay for the funeral and the hospital bills. However, the rest of it was technically his to use however he wanted. Dean placed everything in a trust fund for Sam for all of Sam's future education.

This angered Lisa greatly.

"You're giving everything to Sam?"

Dean paused mid-dress to give his girlfriend a strange look. "Of course I am. It's my parent's money. It what they would have done with it and what they would have wanted."

"And what about you?"

Dean shrugged. "I have my own money."

"What about me? What about Ben?"

His eyes narrowed, realizing where this conversation was going. "This has nothing to do with you."

This only seemed to anger Lisa even more. "Nothing to do with me? You're suppose to be taking care of Ben. You said yourself you were happy to be a Dad to him when he needed it."

Dean felt his voice rising as well; arms throw out in angry gestures. "I am! What do you think the money for the food in front of him comes from? Your endless supply of money your parents send you? This is my parent's money and this is for them to decide what to do."

Lisa flinched at the mention of her parents, the same parents who abandoned her hearing about her pregnancy. Angered as well for the low blow, "You're parent's are dead if you haven't noticed."

Both parties winced at the two sensitive subjects breaching their usually simple interactions.

Lisa turned away, feeling guilty already. "Dean…"

"Don't," and that was all. He left the room to go to work, suddenly feeling that not only his life but also their relationship was going to change.

But perhaps it wasn't just about that particular argument. This was about all the unsaid things between them bursting out into the open, a place both did not seem to want to share with each other.

Him and Lisa were two lonely souls who grabbed onto each other for companionship. Their romance had been smooth sailing: simple and easy. They never argued like this before and always had a way of tip-toeing around each other. They never touched delicate subject and never bothered to ask. They both wanted something simple and got exactly that. So maybe it was no surprise that this interaction shocked both individuals to their core. Perhaps at that very moment, both of them knew.

When he got back home, he knew things were about to change. He carried the sleeping Sam into the room he shared with Ben. He walked back out in search of Lisa. However, what he found in their room were bags, big bags filled with clothes. He then found Lisa was waiting for him at the dining table.

"So we're not going to work this out?" Dean felt himself speak, angry that she was so quick to throw in the towel.

Lisa gave him a look, a tired and weak expression. "I'm tired, Dean." She looked away for a moment, letting out a soft sigh. "I'm tired of fighting."

"We never argue."

She shook her head. "Exactly. Every time we get one step closer, you take three steps back. I'm tried of fighting to get anywhere. I'm tired of trying to get somewhere you clearly don't want to be."

"Are you saying I caused this?"

"No, of course not," She corrected quickly as she looked deep into his eyes. She smiled weakly. "It took me a while to realize—" she shook her head, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I love you, Dean… but I—uh—I love me and I love Ben more. And it sounds so bad but I don't care about us enough to do this anymore. And I don't think you should be with someone like that. I think we both deserve better."

Dean slowly sank into the chair next to Lisa as she watched him. "So this is it, then?"

Lisa smiled, taking his hands into her own. "Can you honestly tell me you're sad about this?"

He looked at her, taking a slow moment to think about her words. "No," he replied in a mystified manner as though unable to understand himself why. He realized he felt almost relieved.

She smiled at him knowingly. She leaned forward to give him a soft, gentle kiss on the lips.

When he opened his eyes back open, he searched her gaze for a moment. "What are you going to do now?"

"I've actually…" she looked down shyly, "I've been talking to my mom."

Dean knew he should have been angry but like usual, he didn't care that she was hiding things from him. He didn't care she was planning on leaving him. Instead, he felt happy for her.

"I'm going home, Dean, with Ben. And this time, maybe I can do things right. For one, not run away and drag someone down with me."

He nodded. "I'm happy for you, Lisa."

She smiled. "What about you?"

He shrugged. "I think I'll go somewhere quiet, somewhere far away. It'll be nice to get a new start for me and Sam."

And that was it.

Lisa left the next day. They both decided it would be best for her to miss the funeral. Dean felt that he needed time with Sam anyways.

The funeral occurred a week later. Everyone in his parent's will and phonebook was notified. Many people came and he greeted everyone evenly. He felt detached from it all. He watched as people cried as Sam cried; however, could not feel the tears coming to his eyes. He wondered if it was odd, if he was a proper son for not grieving.

As people began to filter away after the ceremony, Dean sat quietly with a sleeping Sam, worn out by the crying and everything else, in his arms. As people paid their respects to him, he nodded like an emotionless robot.

"Dean."

He turned around to see an old but welcome familiar face. An attempt for a smile was offered to the man making his way towards the two brothers. "Hey, Bobby. I'm glad you could make it."

The man stopped besides Dean and gave the boy a long look. "Idjit," he muttered roughly, "the devil himself couldn't have stopped me."

Dean nodded and looked on.

"I know it ain't easy, boy," the man started. Dean knew the man spoke from experience having lost his own wife not long ago. "But know that if you or Sam need anything, you holler. Plenty of your parent's folk right there with you."

"I know." Dean looked towards the empty graves. "Mind holding Sam for a bit? I think I could use a walk."

"Yeah, sure."

Dean walked through the cemetery, feeling slightly guilty for leaving his brother with Bobby. However, he needed the time to himself. He needed to clear his head and figure his own mind out. He walked to the other side of a big tree and slumped down onto the dirt grass. His limbs almost gave out boneless as he leaned his head back and stared at the dancing leaves above.

"Sorry for your loss."

He jumped when a gravelly voice interrupted his blank mode. He looked around for the source of the voice.

To his right, a man stepped from the side of the tree. He was wearing a black suite and had a dirty tan trench coat slung over one arm. His stunning blue eyes looked quietly down towards Dean but quickly looked away in the same breath.

Dean remained seated. He suddenly didn't care if the man was there or not. In a way, he welcomed and wanted the stranger's presence. The man had a soft, dark melancholy air about him that felt like a lure to Dean broken self. He wanted to move closer and envelope himself in that sad aura as though that alone could somehow help him pick up his broken pieces; however, at the same time, he wanted to observe from a distance in quiet fascination. The man was beautiful; so sad in his beauty.

"I'm Dean. I just buried by parents." He suddenly said. It sounded odd even to his own ears; however, he felt like he needed to say it. He needed to remind himself constantly so he wouldn't forget and get his hopes up; so he couldn't be dropped back down onto the hard cement of reality.

He shook his head, realizing how odd he was being. "Sorry, I—"

"My name is Castiel. I'm here to visit my wife and son's graves."

Dean look up at the blue-eyed angel and felt his heart begin to beat again. His brows were furrowed lightly, wondering why the man bothered replying. However, he saw no pity or sympathy in those blue eyes, just understanding. Slowly he nodded before looking back towards the seemingly endless gravestones. "Good to meet you, Cas."

After a long moment of warm silence, Castiel slowly sat down besides the man. Dean turned his head to stare at the man besides him. His aching heart thrummed gently against his chest. Warm, comforting blood rushed through his body and warmed his skin. He stared at Castiel's sad blue eyes and wondered if his own held the same agony.

Finally, Castiel returned his gaze. His blue eyes looked even more vibrant and stunning and endless when stared at directly.

"Will the pain ever go away?" Dean asked absentmindedly.

Castiel continued to hold Dean's gaze quietly. "I wouldn't know. It's only been a year." The man leaned forwards as a deeper pain took hold of his expression. "It hasn't gone away yet."

The sat there for a long time, staring and observing each other. Perhaps Cas felt the same pull as Dean. Perhaps they felt how a strange warm had enveloped them, battling away the cold and darkness of loss threatening to engulf them both.

Dean began to starve for more warm. Perhaps Castiel did too because he held out an open palm which Dean grabbed onto with his own hard grip. Cas pulled lightly. Dean responded, letting his head fall into the other man's shoulder, trying to absorb the warmth beating between them. His free hand gripped onto Cas's sleeve.

Their grip on each other was hard and unforgiving as though that could chase away the pain in their hearts. Castiel's free hand gripped onto Dean's neck. Feeling the pain, Dean moved his head away slightly. They gaze at each other across the frighteningly close space.

It was hard to tell who pulled and who leaned because suddenly their lips met in an angry and desperate union. They poured their anger towards the world, towards their misfortune, and sot out each others strength to help mend what they themselves lack. Their lips and tongue clashed together and pulled and demanded. Their minds were blind as bats by the sense of loneliness and loss that could not be described any other way. And in the heat of their hate, a glimmer of something more passed like lightening between their lips. One or both gasped in a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

But before it could be explored, a screaming interrupted their kiss. Dean's head snapped up as his mind instantly recognized the cries as his brother's frantic bellows. Sammy.

His green eyes returned to Castiel's face. He took in the sight of the other man's flushed face and hazed eyes and felt a tingle of desire and want race through his body. The pure desperation and need of it all nearly caused his mind to shut down and his knees to go limp. "I—"

Suddenly, Castiel touched Dean's face softly and smiled in a way that knocked the breath from Dean's lungs. "Good-bye, Dean," the man whispered softly towards him before pushing the man away.

Dean stumbled back a few steps, his uncertainly surely reflecting in his eyes. However, Castiel merely watched him with an unreadable expression. Dean slowly began to walk away, trying to keep his eyes on the stranger. He struggled to find words but couldn't. He turned his head away, towards where Sam was running towards him, and walked forwards and away from what could have been to meet his brother.

He met the boy half way and keeled down to embrace the frantically crying boy. "I got you, Sammy. I got you."

When he turned back, the man was gone.

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><p>AN: Reviews are loved! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!<p> 


	2. One Step Forward

**Pieces of a Whole : 2 : One Step Forward**

AN: This took forever to get out for some reason. But, anyhow, enjoy. :D

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><p>"What you need is something new to look at. That empty apartment is no good for you or Sam."<p>

That was what Bobby said and Dean had begun to believe it weeks later. All his stuff had been packed the second day of the funeral but he didn't know where he was going. Day after day, he would stare at the empty boxes and wonder what the hell he was doing. It may have driven him insane if not for Sammy.

The boy inserted himself awkwardly into Dean's life. The usually talkative, witty, and lively boy had become something like a zombie. Sam was always staring blankly into space, never talking much, never doing anything that a normal boy should do.

For one, Sam listened to Dean like the man spoke the word of God. No matter what it was, the young boy quietly did the task quickly and without complaint before going back to starting at the wall or watching Dean with eerie intensity.

Then there was Dean's inability to escape the child. The first time Sam had lost sight of Dean had been at the supermarket. Dean figured the boy had gone to check out something else and lazily searched the store. However, he then realized the boy had literally frozen when Dean had accidentally slipped out of his sight and began to hyperventilate. Dean never let the boy out of his sights again. Then he began to wonder what's going to happen when school started, when Sam couldn't follow Dean to work anymore and had to go through those big school doors by himself.

Then the nightmares started. Dean would, as usually, wait until Sam fell asleep before returning to his room for the night. However, after a few days, Dean was constantly shaken awake by horrible screams from the boy's room. Then the boy would shake like a leaf in his arms for hours. Somewhere along the way Sam began to sleep in Dean's room, one small hand clinging onto Dean's shirt while he slept. It seemed to help.

And then finally, one day, Dean had enough. Enough of the empty closets, the packed boxes, the empty kitchen, the now-empty room Sam never slept in. It suddenly became too much. He gathered everything up including Sam, shoved it all into his baby and drove.

He didn't know where he was going at first; however, he then realized there was nowhere else to go.

He drove to Bobby's 4 hours away. He drove until morning turned into evening and weariness clung onto his body.

He must have looked like rolled-over shit when he ringed the doorbell. Sam looks just a little better because the boy knocked out an hour into the drive. He waited nervously on the doorstep. What was he even expecting? 'Hi Bobby. I just kicked myself out of my own apartment, handed my keys over, and drove 4 miles out here… would you happen to know anywhere I can crash?'

That may have actually been exactly what he had said if not for the fact Bobby wasn't the one who answered the door.

The door swung open timidly to reveal a startlingly familiar face, one Dean thought he would never see again.

"Castiel."

Dean stared at the blue-eyed man with an expression that may have looked just short of horrified because Castiel gave him an odd and weary glance. The stony expression on the man's face barely changed and Dean began to wonder if he had dreamed their encounter. And perhaps he would have continued thinking that if not for the other man's inability to meet his eyes for too long.

Castiel cleared his throat awkwardly. "I wasn't aware Bobby was having visitors today."

Dean swallowed and tried to reminder how to think. "I uh—" he started lamely. "He wasn't expecting me."

There was a thick, tense silence between them for a longer than comfortable moment before Castiel finally spoke up again. "Would you like to come in? I don't think he would mind."

Dean nodded weakly. He picked up Sam's hand and led them both into the house. He eyed the familiar run-down shack and suddenly felt his worries slowly began to die away. He remembered visiting the place very often when he was young. Sometimes he would even escape here when he was trying to piss-off his Dad during his rebellion phase. The place felt like a second home. It always had.

He sat down on the couch while still glancing around. Sam stood quietly next to Dean, not making a move to sit or stare at anything besides his shoes.

Castiel was at a lost. He had merely come by to visit Bobby because Michael insisted he check on the car Bobby was fixing. But they both knew it was an excuse to check on the old man. They were worried about him mostly after the funeral and one of the Novak brothers always dropped by to chat with the men when they had time. Unfortunately, being off work because of Summer, Castiel was the brother who had the most time currently. However, Bobby had been just on his way out for a beer-run but insisted they drink when he got back. So Castiel waited patiently for the man to return.

What he didn't expect was to see Dean at the door. His heart had frozen in his body and his brain fell into a comatose state. He wasn't sure if he was happy or fearful seeing the man again. The kiss they shared had both thrilled and frightened him. He felt ashamed that thoughts of wife fled the next few days as the stranger plagued his mind instead. But at the same time, it was the most he had felt in a long time.

He allowed the man to enter the house. He knew Bobby felt like the man was his own son. He had heard enough stories to know that much and perhaps more than he should. He knew Dean visited here often. He knew Dean always wanted a dog and tried to bribe Bobby to keep one when he own parents disagreed. He knew Dean never wanted his father to remarry and ran away to Bobby's place for week because he was upset. He knew Dean would buy the best whiskey never year for Bobby's birthday only to help the man finish half the bottle before leaving the next day. He knew Dean stopped visiting after getting together with Lisa.

He knew way too much about Dean and he felt too close to the man. But perhaps that is why Castiel wanted to sit beside Dean the day at the funeral. Maybe that's why he was thrilled the moment Dean allowed him to comfort him in an awkward hug. And that is probably why Castiel cherished that day's kiss like it was gold.

And now the same Dean was sitting right before him and all he could do was stand awkwardly in front of the man gapping at him like a fish.

Then he noticed the boy.

Sam stood quietly without moving as though trying to blend into the couch itself. The boy looked almost as awkward and out of placed as Castiel always felt so he could sympathize. Even though, he could sense the kid was at least slightly curious about the books on the table before him. The fun thing about visiting Bobby was that the man had the strangest collection of books from folklores to mythical to biblical and back to just plain weird.

Castiel slowly walked over to where Sam stood subtly reading the title of one particular old hard-cover book on the table. The boy caught his approach and quickly looked down at his feet again.

Cas picked up the book and sat down on the floor next to Sam but facing a different direction so it seemed fairly subtle. When he opened it, it was in a perfect position for the boy to take a peak.

He flipped through the book until he reached an interesting one. He glanced at Sam who caught his eyes and instantly looked away again.

He turned back, smiled, and began to read. "Wendigo is a mythical creature of the Algonquian people in the northern United States and Canada," his voice heavy, low, and mysterious as though he himself was too fascinated to keep the words to himself. "It is a malevolent cannibalistic spirit that human can transform into or perhaps would possess a human host." He turned the page to where a picture of a supposed Wendigo looked like.

He continued, "Wendigos are embodiments of gluttony, greed, and excess, the ones who are never satisfied. Traditions state that humans overpowered by greed turn into Wendigos where they then live a life of cannibalism, violence, and evil."

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Dean giving him an odd and almost disapproving look probably from the fact he was reading about a cannibalistic monster to a 7-year-old. However, he noticed Sam getting fairly curious.

He flipped a few pages to another picture of the shadow of the gruesome creature in a dark forest setting. "They say he comes out at in the dead of night in the cold of winter when the snow nips at your face and stings your eyes shut. When the moon is like an eerie glow behind misted haze of clouds and the only sound you hear…" his voice fell low to a whisper as he leaned in towards Sam, "is whispers and whistles of wind." He paused as though trying to listen for the wind. "And you begin to hear a voice perhaps a person lost or a cry of a bird. 'Hel—p. Help.' Words. Clear as day. Because," He covered his lips as though the words were too horrible to utter beyond a whisper; as though it was a secret between him and Sam. Sam leaned in. "Wendigos sound just like humans."

Castiel looked into Sam's eyes and smiled as though they shared a little secret. He slowly placed the book into the boy's hands. "My name is Castiel. You must be Sam."

Sam nodded and leaned forwards to whisper to the man with a very serious expression. "Dad said he saw a Wendigo before when he was out hunting."

Cas let his eyes widen in horror and he nodded seriously, brows furrowed, "Did he hear the voice?"

Sam nodded.

He shook his head, awed, in response. "What did he do?"

The corners of Sam's mouth twitched. "Dropped everything and ran."

Castiel smiled. "Wise man."

Sam smiled in pride before he looked down and started to flip through the book in wonder. Castiel took the time to spare a glance a Dean who looked interested, wary, and bewildered. However, if the man had any complaints, he didn't say much. Instead, his studding green eyes fell onto the back of Sam's head as though trying to determine whether or not this was a good thing.

Castiel's attention was turned back to the boy when Sam sat himself before Castiel and opens the book so it was on both their laps. He pointed to the title of the chapter.

"Poltergeist," Cas pronounced for the boy, "ever been asleep at night and could have sworn you hear something?"

Sam stared at him intensely.

"Knocks on the door," he knocks his knuckles against the book, "but no one's there. They're ghost. Troublesome ghost who like to make trouble. Some are naughty like children others very dangerous."

"Why do they do it?"

Castiel shrugged, "Ghosts get bored too you know. If you were a ghost what would you do?"

Sam shifted shyly before grinning. "Scare the pants off Dean."

"Thanks a lot, kid," Dean responded in amusement from behind him. Sam smiled.

Dean didn't miss that. Sam smiled, he was sure of it. It blew him away. He couldn't remember the last time the boy smile. Then again, he couldn't remember the last time the boy looks so… natural. It was like the Sammy he knew was appearing before him again.

His eyes lifted to watch as this man, Castiel, dipped his head in and motioned towards something from the book that seemed to also fascinate Sammy beyond reason. How as it this man who Sam had never met in his life was able to crack that wall Sam put up so easily. How as it that he made everything look so easy where as Dean feel like he was constantly trying to swim in mud?

Castiel suddenly clapped his hands and looked at the boy as though suddenly remembering something. "Hey Sam."

The boy looked up and couldn't help but be drawn in by the way the man looked at him, like he was up to something interesting, mysterious and fun. Like he was about to embark on a fantastic journey that adults could never understand and Sam was the one lucky boy out of the billions of kids in the word that he chose to share it with. "I'm starving. I don't know about you but I can use some cookies."

Sam felt his stomach agree profusely with the suggestion. Dean had driven half the day and they still haven't eaten lunch. He was thirsty and hungry and he really liked cookies.

"I'm going to sneak into that room over there and see what kind of goods Bobby is hiding in his kitchen," Castiel gave him a mischievous quirk of his lips. "What do you think will be in there…. Rats?"

Sam bit his lips to keep himself from grinning. It really did look like rats would be running around the man's kitchen. "Gross."

"That's what I tell him all the time. So what do you say?" Castiel opened his hands and offered him to the boy.

Sam turned to look at Dean who smiled encouragingly. The boy then placed his hands timidly in the man's big, gentle ones and they helped each other off the floor. He almost laughed when Castiel playfully pretended to fall, almost pulled Sam down with him. Sam tugged at the man's arm harder to help him up.

Dean watched as they entered the kitchen, Sam walked with Castiel and jumping when the man tickled him and said something about rats again.

Suddenly, the door opened with a heavy creaking noise, the sound of thick footfalls was heard, and then finally a familiar face popped around the corner. Dean instantly stood with a full grin on his face. "Bobby."

The older man grinned and walked over and gave the grown man a hug and heavy thumps on the back. "I thought I recognized that impala. How are you, boy?"

"Depend on who you ask."

"Well, I'm asking you, aren't I?"

Dean grinned. "I'm getting by."

Bobby gave the man a look and raised a brow. "Is that why there are a bunch of boxes in your impala?"

Dean didn't have time to reply because Castiel returned to the living room when he heard Bobby's voice.

"You're still here?" Bobby asked in a good-natured way.

Castiel frowned softly, clearly not understanding the joke. "You told me to stay." When Bobby merely gave him a long look, the man realized. "Oh, you were being sarcastic."

Dean did a back-take for a moment before shaking his head and looking towards Bobby again. "Yea, the boxes are complicated."

As Bobby narrowed his eyes at the man, Castiel felt Sam tug shyly at his hand. With the presence of a new person in the room it seemed the boy feel back into his silent, withdrawn mode. Cas leaned down to let the boy whisper into his ear.

"I'm taking Sam to the little boy's room if you don't mind."

Dean moved to retrieve Sammy. "Oh I'll do that."

But Castiel stopped the other man by lifting up a quiet hand. He looked from him to Bobby with a meaningful expression. "We'll be fine." He grinned at the boy. "Won't we?" Sam nods in response.

Dean glanced at Cas then to his brother before nodding.

As soon as the pair left and Bobby was sure they were out of earshot, "So you wanna tell me what this is all about?"

The older man sat down on his chair behind his table while Dean pulled up a chair on the other side. He rubbed his chin nervously. "Weren't you the one who said me and Sammy needed something new to look at."

"Sure did. But usually when a logical man packs all his stuff into his car, he has a place to go. Now, don't get me wrong, boy. I would glad you're here and I would have gladly let you stay here but if you haven't noticed by the stacks of books ceiling high waiting to kill something and the empty beer and whiskey bottles everywhere, this is not exactly the ideal living place for a 7 year old boy."

Dean stood and started to pace. "I wasn't thinking about that."

"You don't say."

"Look," he stopped and looked at Bobby, "all I knew what that I couldn't stay there for another minute. I couldn't walk past that empty room or sleep on that god-forsaken bed again without going mad. Damn, I couldn't even open the fridge without wanting to throw it across the room. I don't care if I have to stay in a motel the next few weeks or until I get us settled. All I know is I can't go back there…. And plus, I already handed over the keys."

"You know what—"

"—You could stay with me."

Both men looked to where Castiel was leaning against the door.

Sam, who had apparently stolen another cookie, poked his head in curiously as glanced up at Castiel. "We're staying with Castiel?"

"Cas," Bobby looked at the man with a worried look, one that made Dean glance from one man to the other with a furrowed brow knowing he was clearing missing something.

Castiel smiled at Sam briefly before give Bobby a quiet look that clearly communicated another something Dean was missing out on. He finally turned to Dean. "I live on the first floor of my house. There are two empty rooms upstairs one furnished and one that basically has nothing in it besides a bookcase and a chair. The second story of my house is basically collecting dust so I honestly don't see why not. You need a place and I need someone to help me pay the bills."

Dean opened his mouth to protest but found himself really having no other choice. But how much did he know about this Castiel? He looked to Bobby. But Bobby had a good relationship with the man and he had history of making stupider decision with less reassurance than that.

The old man shrugged. "It's actually a pretty good idea. Good for both you idjits. I don't trust either one of you by yourself."

"Says the man surrounded by empty bottles of whiskey." Dean replied.

"Oh don't get me wrong. Cas, you need the distraction because, frankly, you've been coming by way too much; and Dean, you need the help. You're lucky to have survived this long with a child. We wouldn't want to tempt the chances."

"Your faith in me is touching."

While the two bickered, Castiel kneeled down next to Sam. "So what do you say, Sam?"

The boy grinned and shifted shyly. "Awesome."

Castiel had never been one for rash decisions. He was meticulous about thinking all of his actions through. Buying his current house along had been the result of a year's consideration. Then again, that was also probably why he couldn't sell the damn building when his wife passed.

But now he though all but 5 seconds before jumping in and letting the man stay with him? His chest was fluttering uncomfortably with panic. What was he thinking? Did he even pause to consider the weight of this decision? Clearly not.

At the same time, he stomach fluttered with excitement as well. Something within him began to breathe again. It was as though he had taken a fresh breath of clear spring grass after a lifetime of confinement with heavy smokers. Maybe it was Sam. Maybe it was Dean. Maybe it was finally enough; whatever 'it' was.

He watched as Dean and Sam inspected the house. His arm was wrapped tightly around his body and he was only vaguely aware of his fingers digging painfully into his arm. He didn't know what to think of it all; how to feel. He felt like he was swimming against a violent torrent of fear and uncertainty.

He felt himself begin to speak in a drone. "There's the kitchen and the living room. Two bathrooms downstairs. That's one there and a private one in my room—that's my room." There must have been a sense of urgency in his voice because Dean's hand instantly froze over the door handle of the closed door.

"Sorry."

Castiel looked down. "No it's uh—the door down the hall is the garage and there's a closet under the stairs there."

Dean walked forwards and through the house before ending up before the stairs. His hand touched the handle of the stairs and Castiel felt pain as his fingers pressed harder into his arm. It had been nearly a year since anyone had set foot on those steps and longer for him. He hadn't been up there since the accident. Sometimes he even forced himself to forget that there were stairs in his house.

"So I guess me and Sam would be staying up there?"

Castiel snapped out of his thoughts and nodded weakly. "Uh—yes. That would be correct.

Dean seemed to sense the man's hesitation because he paused. "Mind if we take a look?"

"Um—right—of course not."

Dean stepped over the invisible line into the forbidden zone so easily and began to ascend the stairs. Cas watched, body shaking softly from a sudden chill of renewed uncertainty that ran through his body.

After a moment he realized Dean had stopped half way. Castiel looked up.

"Are you coming?" Dean was watching him expectantly. Castiel shifted forwards, wanting nothing but to step forwards—and what? Grab the man's arm? Hug him? Kiss him? No—he didn't know anymore. He didn't know what to do, what to say, how to reply. All he wanted to do was back up further away from those daunting steps and forget he even considered it.

However, after a moment, it was Sam who hopped a few steps down and stopped when he was nearly at eye-level with Castiel. The boy held out his hand for the man to grab. The grown man searched the young boy's innocent eyes. "I like it here."

Slowly a painful but true smile appeared on Castiel's lips. "Thank you," he responded softly as he grabbed onto that little palm. He allowed himself to be led up the stairs, following Dean's strong, tall back and the gentle tug of Sam's hand.

And all Castiel remembered from there was how easy it felt. Like there was nothing there stopping him anymore.

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><p>AN: Thank you for reviews. Thank you for reading! :D<p> 


	3. Box Away the Pain

**Pieces of a Whole : 3 : Box Away the Pain  
><strong>

AN: Sorry for the delays in my updates for all of my stories! And I'm writing this one because it's been easier to think of than my other stories for some reason. I can't help but feel like it's a little weird but who knows. Hopefully you like the chapter. It may be a little slow but I didn't want to rush this particular story and I wanted to enjoy writing it (and I did!) so I hope you'll also enjoy reading it.

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><p>There was something about Castiel that made things easier. Dean wasn't even aware of it until the second the man left Dean alone with Bobby.<p>

Suddenly, the air seemed to build up and begin to suffocate him. A level of anxiety began to churn at his stomach and a strong self-defense mechanism waited for judgment to fall on him. And suddenly, Dean wanted to pull the man back into the room.

But perhaps that was it. Maybe it was the fact Castiel didn't judge. He didn't judge when watching Dean awkwardly deal with his brother. He didn't judge when Dean almost fell into a state of relief when Sam finally left his side.

It wasn't that Dean didn't love or want to take care of Sam. It was the fear of having to. He had though it would be easy. After all, he played the big brother role very well. And big brothers are supposed to take care of their little brothers. Being a father figure shouldn't be any different... but that was ignorance speaking.

It was like day and night. Sam had looked up at Dean in the way where the kid was staring at him in wonder, waiting for his older brother to show him how to play ball or find the bridge to freaking Narnia or whatever. However, when things got really bad, really thick, or when Sam felt uncomfortable, it was John and Mary who Sam ran to. It was their parents who would chase away all those uncertainties so easily. And Dean watched without having to worry much.

But now… now it was different.

Now, Sam looked to him. When he wet his bed, when he felt tired or restless, when he felt like crying and didn't know why, when he felt loneliness creep up into him, and mostly when he couldn't understand why the accident happened, he came to Dean. But it wasn't just once or twice. It was every day, every hour, and every moment.

But it wasn't bad that Sam came to him. It made Dean happy to feel needed by his little brother. No, it was those moment after. Sammy would come up to him with those waiting, expecting eyes, as though Dean could chase away the very demons that haunted his waking hour. And Dean would try—God knows he tried—but no matter what he did, everything fell into an awkward laugh or joke or 'suck it up, Sammy.' He didn't know what to do or how to do it. And every time that happened, Sammy's face fell down to that very sad, broken expression he had the night at the hospital. And the knowledge that their parents were gone hit him all over again.

And it drove him crazy. And he could hit himself for those words, but he didn't know what else he could have said.

But, unlike him, Castiel was like a child whisperer and not in an annoying 'I know every thought and history your child has ever had' kind of way. No, it was like Castiel could see into their little souls and know what they wanted. Dean saw it in the man's eyes—hell, he even saw it in Sammy's eyes. When Castiel spoke, the wonder in Sammy's eyes made Dean feel like they were communicating in another language, a language only children could understand. But for some reason, Castiel still knew it fluently.

Who would have known? You can tell a lot about a person by the way they dress. But he was thrown by the man. Castiel looked awkward, slightly uptight, and withdrawn. He was wearing a tie and suit in the middle of the day at as supposed friend's house. A social visit doesn't usual require such an elaborate get-up, that's for sure.

And although he was in a suit, it didn't appear slick or tight on him. It was just… awkward. The tie was ruffled and messy like he had been tugging at it absentmindedly all day. His under shirt looked too large for him, his pants reached too far to the floor, and his hair like he had a horrible battle with the blow dryer and lost. Nothing about him screamed 'child-whisper'. In fact, Castiel, beyond being unnaturally attractive, was normal. He looked like someone who sat behind a cubical all day and answered phones. He looked like … a tax accountant.

"So this is the master bedroom."

Dean blinked owlishly at the man for a moment before realizing he was staring. And that was probably making Castiel uncomfortable by the way the man looked overly nervous in his own house.

He looked into the room just for show and took it all in with a vague sense of uncertainty.

The room was like the rest of the house… and quite frankly, the whole place looked like an asylum. The walls in every room including this one were all an off-white that hinted at a beige tinge. The little furniture there was all through the house were all a muted, dull color. And when Dean said 'little furniture' he meant the living room only held a couch, light, table, and a random chair off to the side. And in the 'master bedroom', there was a bed with white sheets and white pillows, an empty closet, a table, and a light.

There were no pictures, no hint of bright colors, and no hint of 'warmth' or 'home'. But maybe he shouldn't judge. Well, he wouldn't have if the furniture actually looked used. Everything looked too clean, too new, and … it was just weird.

But at the same time, it was good. It didn't feel like he was intruding on someone's home. It felt like the slate had been wiped clean.

Castiel showed Sam and Dean the next room. The bookroom looked like it was starting to be packed up but they never got around to finishing the job. There were loads of books in that room all in boxes or stacked hastily on shelves or random locations on the floor. They look oddly unorganized for what Dean saw Cas as (probably a neat-freak). Dean snuck a glanced at the man besides him and noticed him frown at the boxes.

"I will have this room cleaned more properly at a later date," Castiel spoke in a distant tone as his eyes lingered over the books like he wanted to burn them. But at the same thing, there was something else in Castiel's voice. Perhaps it was hesitation. In fact, now that he noticed, the other man did look … off.

Well, that was the understatement of the century. Castiel looked like he wanted to bolt out the nearest exit. At first, Dean thought it was him. Some people have mentioned he can look intimidating at times. However, after a few glances, he noticed the weary glances Castiel was throwing was aimed towards … everything. It was like the man was waiting for the walls jump out at him and swallows him whole.

"That's a lot of books. Why are they all in boxes?" Sam wondered as he stood peaking past the frame of the door.

Dean noticed Castiel freeze for some reason and look down at Sam.

Sam gazed up at Cas with a bright, innocent, and curious expression. Dean felt nervous for some reason as though waiting for the man to reach his limits and finally throw in the towel and run out of the room. That would probably be a little… odd but it felt like the man might and certainly wanted to.

But Castiel didn't. Instead, his expression slowly and almost painfully fell to a soft smile. "Would you like to look at them?"

Sam shifted uncertainly. He glanced up at Dean again. Dean sucked in a breath and stiffened, he was still unaccustomed to having the young boy always look at him for answers. But he nodded in encouragement… which was apparently all the boy needed. He turned to Castiel again. "Yes, please." And Dean let out a breath he didn't know he was still holding.

Dean turned to look at the other man and froze instantly when meeting a pair of strong blue eyes. But this time he froze for a different reason. He froze because it suddenly felt like he was caught. He was caught showing uncertainty towards his situation with Sam. He was caught like an idiot getting nervous over answering a little boy.

And he would have pulled up his instinctive shield and tighten his expression as usual if not for the way Castiel responded. The man smiled softly at him. And it was that moment Dean realized he had yet to see Castiel smile. And it was beautiful. It was beautiful in the way it made Dean's worries fly straight out the door. It was a secret smile that seemed to say 'it's okay, I understand'. It was a smile that made Dean feel like … for once, for Sam, he was doing things right. And he felt the tension from his shoulder drop, the anxiety ease, and he felt like he could breathe again.

In the same beat, although it felt like ages, Castiel turned to Sam and held out his hand. "I'll show you some nice ones that…" There was a certain hesitation that flickered across his eyes before he continued with a soft smile reserved for the child who took his hand, "I've had for a while now."

Castiel led Sam to sit with him before one of the boxes and opened it slowly. After a moment, Dean followed and looked over their shoulder. They were children's books by the look of it.

Castiel dug slowly through the box until and pulled out a couple. 'Robin Hood and the Golden Arrow' read one title, 'Green Eggs and Ham', and several others. Afterwards, he opened the books for Sammy's inspection and they started to read together.

By then, Dean was getting bored and distracted. He glanced around him at the odd piles of books here and there.

"Supernatural?" He read the title of a large collection of a series of books.

As Sam flipped the page and entranced himself with the skillful illustration in his Robin Hood book, Castiel glanced over and offered a grin.

"Guilty pleasure. You should read a few. I think you'll relate to the character, Jensen."

"Noted," Dean replied as Castiel's attention was pulled by Sam again. But he didn't mind. Instead, he continued investigating the large assortment of books.

And as a few minutes ticked by, both Castiel and Sammy seemed very into the book they were reading. Dean allowed himself more freedom and even bending down to shift through some knocked-over pile of books. He straightened the fallen stack back up but froze when he noticed something buried under all the literature.

It was a picture facing the carpet. He reached forwards to pick it up and instantly noticed the cracked glass. He touched the frame lightly in wonder before squinting past the glare and cracks to see three teenage figures obviously still in high school. There was a girl and two guys who looked almost like twins. In fact they almost looked like—

Suddenly, "NO!" a scream was heard and the picture was thrown from his hand. It crashed into the bookshelf. Dean could not process anything beyond the shock and surprise that was keeping him immobile as he watched Castiel loose it.

The man huddled over the fallen frame before him, facing away from where he was. The man tore through the back of the picture, pulling the opening straight off. He dug his hand into grab the picture, ignoring the broken glass that dug through his hand and began to cut and bloody his fingers. He continued to ignore the pain and he tore the picture apart in frantic desperation until the shredded paper fell before him like snow.

When it was finally over, Castiel stared blankly at his bloody hands and held it against chest then quickly shoved it into his coat. His body seemed to be shaking. He looked at Dean with an unreadable expression before schooling his expression and turning around to face the uncertain child.

Castiel approached Sam carefully, quietly, before offering Sam a small smile.

"Sorry. That was just really bad picture of me," Castiel reassured Sam and added a soft laugh that sounded so forced that Dean nearly winced. "I had a buzz-cut from a dare and everything." He leaned down to offer the boy a secret smile. "Never do anything under a dare. It's always okay to say 'no'. Or 'buzz' goes your hair." He slid his good left hand though Sam's hair to imitate a buzz-cut. And it seemed to work because Sam slowly began to brighten again and smiled at the story. "So where were we?"

Just as Sam was showing Castiel, Dean spoke up from his place now standing beside them. "Sammy, you think I could borrow Castiel from you a moment? I need to ask him some grown-up stuff." He noticed Castiel stiffen.

However, he had to give it to the man for not missing a beat. Castiel appeared to have winked at Sam. "That means 'really, really boring stuff'." He mouthed 'save me' to Sam causing the boy to smile again. Then man then shrugged and reassured. "It'll only take a few minutes. You can take a look at all these books while I'm gone. I expect you to pick out 10 books that you need to finish reading by next week."

Sam nodded and begins to dig through the box.

The moment Castiel stood; Dean grabbed the man by the arm and led him out the room.

Dean felt Castiel tense under his grip. The look on the man's face made it seem like he was going under the firing squad and he was just praying for it to be over fast. And when they were out of the room, Castiel had become visibly tense and wary.

When Dean didn't speak, Castiel instantly started to apologize, "I'm really sorry ab—"

"Let me see your hand," Dean interrupted.

Castiel looked at the man before him for a moment before slowly bringing out his bleeding hand out of his pocket. It was really starting to sting.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

After showing Dean where the first aid was, he watched as the man pulled out the remaining pieces of glass out of his skin and wash is hand under the bathroom sink. He wince as it stun but made no move or sound otherwise.

But after a moment, his curiosity and anxiety could take no more. "Aren't you going to ask?"

Dean paused his bandaging only for a second. "No. I get you have secrets. I get you're in pain. Trust me, I get it." He looked at the man as he eased the first bandage wrap down and started on Castiel's fingers. "So I won't push; I won't talk about. Not unless you want to."

Castiel felt tension ebb out of his body and his eyes softened and lowered.

"Do you want to talk about?"

He opened his mouth to reply but closed it again, swallowing before replying this time. "No… I—I'm sorry—"

"It's okay, honest," and that was it. And it was dropped. Just like that. And Castiel was relieved.

As the bandaging finished, Castiel felt Dean's fingers graze over his wraps in a caressing manner and instantly the tone of his thoughts changed. He lifted his blue eyes locked them onto Dean's stunning green ones. He felt his breath shorted and his chest fluttered gently in giddy anticipation. His body felt hot and he was sure blood was rushing to his face, leaving his slightly light-headed. How was he supposed to think properly when the man was staring at him, touching his hands like that?

Fearing his own reactions, he softly tried to pull his hand from Dean's grip. To his surprise, the grip tightened and he lifted his eyes again, this time in uncertainty and maybe a pinch of hope.

Then, Dean, as though suddenly realizing what he was doing, dropped his hands in a hurry and looked nervous. "I—uh—just wanted to thank you for—um—letting us stay here."

Castiel's eyes dropped along with the tingle of hope that trembled through his body. It was too good to be true anyways. He nodded. "As I said, it's no problem."

Afterwards, they made their way back to the bookroom to check on Sam who had gotten strangely silent. They then realized why when they noticed the slumber 8-year-old more or less drooling on the book he had been reading. Dean chuckled before apologizing for his brother ruining Castiel's book but the man waved the apology aside.

"I was actually hoping on giving those books to him."

As Dean gathered his brother up into his strong arms, he looked at Cas in surprise, "All of them?"

"Yes. I—uh—I don't have use for them anymore," he managed to force out of his lunges over the constriction of his throat, heart, and chest that threatened to engulf him.

Dean got the hint quickly and dropped the subject. Those books must have belonged to Castiel's son, the one that passed away. He wondered how Castiel must have felt going through all those books after so long; watching Sam read them. He wondered if it was really okay to stay here; if Castiel would be okay seeing Sam every corner that his own son had walked. By the looks of the books in that box, his son must have been around the same age.

Castiel watched as Dean walked to the master-bedroom and tucked his brother in the white sheets of the bed. He leaned heavily against the door frame as memories of his wife and son flashed across his mind and engulfed him in a heavy sadness that he had no felt, had ignored, for a long time. His arms were around his body and he eyes now focused on the floor as he tried to will the pain away.

"Cas."

He looked up just in time to see Dean looked at him with a soft and almost guilty expression. Suddenly, his body was engulfed in the other man's strong embrace, an embraced that made his body shutter and his muscles go limp in relief. He needed strength. He needed something to hold onto while his world shattered around him. And so he encircled Dean's strong body and clung onto the man's shirt.

Cas buried his head deep into the masculine shoulder and breathed the unique scent of Dean, a mix of oil and sawdust. And suddenly, he felt tears trail down his cheeks and staining the man's shirt. He wondered when the last time he cried was and he couldn't remember.

"I'm sorry." Dean whispered and by the guilt-filled tone of the apology, Castiel wondered what exactly he was sorry about.

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><p>AN: Sooo... Review? Tell me how you like it; let me know if you have any suggestions or anything you would like to see! I can't wait to bring in more cast members. I think you all will enjoy what I did with Gabriel. And... Michael isn't a dick! And Lucifer and Balthazar will be making interesting appearances. And there is your teaser. :) Oh yea and the content of the picture may be revealed next chapter.<p> 


	4. Start By Loving

**Pieces of a Whole : 4 : Start By Loving  
><strong>

AN: Just to comment on a few reviews. And speaking of, thanks everyone for their lovely reviews! I'm glad it made some people cry and feel. You're reviews brings happy tears into my eyes to it's a wonderful trade! Lol~

So Lisa was technically not supposed to be a 'bad' character. She just has a hard time loving people mostly after being abandoned by her own parents and the man that impregnated her. She actually tries with Dean but Dean's a little…well, he pushes people away. And the fact she places Ben above everything in her life makes it difficult for her to be in an actual relationship… it's just complicated. Lol. I don't think she's going to be a conflict later on but that may change but she probably will come back so don't hate her too much!

Pilali asked what the inspiration for the story was. It's Lisa Kleypas's "Christmas Eve at Friday Harbor". She's all time my favorite author and in that particular book, the male protagonist finds himself having to take care of his niece after his sister dies in a car accident. He moved and met the female protagonist and she kind of helps him a little with his niece. I beginning concept of Dean having to take care of Sam came from that along with the move and Castiel being good with Sam… and everything else evolved and mutated from that.

If you have any other questions or concerns, please feel free to place them into your review. I am happy to answer!

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><p>There were times in one's lives where one has to be painfully honest with their selves. Denial was a long road leading to a dark nowhere. So as Castiel pressed against the stranger's warm chest, there was no use denying the flutter of his chest, the thumbing of his chest, and the addictive sensation of being held. He had to admit to his trembling and longing heart that he was undeniably attracted to Dean. And this worried Castiel. No, it scared him.<p>

How long has it been since he felt this way? How long since he wanted so desperately for time to stop just so he could stay in the man's safe embrace for just a while longer? He couldn't remember. He didn't want to. His hands tightened their hold on Dean's shirt, trying to will everything else away.

But even if he was head-over-heels for this man, he realized, he knew it would be wrong, so wrong. It was that realization that slapped his mind awake back dragged his ass back to reality. And so, he was the first to break apart, forcefully, with a strong push of his hands. He threw himself away and stumbled and pressed himself against the frame of the door as he turned away from Dean. "I'm sorry. I—I'll go now," he heard himself mutter softly in that rough, awkward voice of his before abandoning the probably startled man and fleeing the room.

He ran away because it was the only thing he knew how to do apparently and he hated himself for it: his endless, disgusting fear.

He found himself back in the bookroom and merely stared at the blank room for a long moment. He stared quietly at the boxes, the books, the shelves and memories began flooding back in his mind. He felt his whole body tense as he dragged is haze to the blank, even walls. He was suddenly thankful that Balthazar helped him paint to room that awful beige. At least it didn't look the same anymore. At least it didn't feel the same.

But suddenly, everything in front of him looked so wrong. It looked so suffocating and like they didn't belong. He dragged his body over to the first box and opened it. He stared at the book for a long time until finally throwing it on the ground then overturning the box with a violent shove. He stared at the pile of books and suddenly wanted to get rid of all of it. Then he didn't have to feel the pain he felt every time he saw those books and remembered how his wife loved them dearly.

And that's how Dean found him. And Dean stood there for a moment, watching as Castiel grabbed handful of books at a time and thoughtlessly threw them into big black plastic bags. He watched as the man appeared nonchalant and mellow as he continued to abandon book after book. And Dean would have though the man was merely cleaning up the room if not for the silent tears that rolled down his face.

"Cas."

Castiel started and looked at Dean with an unreadable expression. "Is something wrong?"

Dean wanted to give the man an odd look at the irony of the statement but decided against it. He stepped forwards and took the two books out of the man's hands and placed him quietly on the ground. He ignored the confused look the man gave him. "You're a mess, man," he muttered as he brushed a falling tear off Castiel cheek before dropping his hand again.

The other man jumped at the contact and he eyes widened in surprise. Castiel reached with his hands to touch his face and it seems like he only just realized he was crying. He then quickly whipped his face as he turned away slightly. "You're right. I apologize. I didn't realize." He let out a low, bitter chuckle. "I bet you're rethinking moving in with an emotionally unstable stranger now."

Dean was quiet for a moment and looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn't decide exactly which direct to go with his comment. Castiel imagined the worse and waited for the backlash that he was accustomed to receiving with a blank, school expression.

What Dean wouldn't mention was that he already anticipated some difficulties after his private talk with Bobby before they left the old man's place.

He was a far cry from understanding the other man but what he did know was that Bobby saw Cas as a close friend and that Cas had been burying and burying all his pain deep with himself and deep within his house ever since his family passed without him.

And Dean realized Bobby had good reason to worry because the man was barely keeping his head over water. He knew because he knew the look; the same look he was starting to see in the mirror. And Dean was starting to realize that he was actually tearing at old wounds and shoving some of that years' worth of buried pain right back into Castiel's face just by being here.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Castiel paused, clearly not expecting that, and gave Dean an odd look. "For what?"

Dean glanced around at the books littered at their feet. "I can't be easy digging through all of their things after all this time."

Cas looked down. "It's not your fault."

"So you would be shifting through this stuff even if me and Sammy aren't here?"

"I—I was the one that offered you to stay, wasn't I?"

Dean didn't say anything in response for a while. He looked at the man before him with a furrowed brow as though trying to figure something out. "I think you've done enough cleaning for today. Let's go downstairs and get you something hot to drink." Just as Castiel looked like he was about to go against the idea, Dean continued. "I could really use one myself, if you don't mind."

Cas looked at the man for a moment before quietly nodding. He stared at the mess of books around him for a moment before turning to leave the room.

_-sn-_

Dean watched as the man visibly sunk into a comfortable bliss from the very first sip of the coffee in his hands. And he tried to ignore the shiver of want that ran up his spin from the sensual moan of pleasure that came from the man before him. He may have increased the strength of his hold on his cup.

He cleared his throat to help himself get actually words and not just drool out of his mouth. "So tell me about yourself."

Castiel almost frowned at Dean for interrupting his coffee moment, and Dean may have felt a touch of jealousy of the caffeinated liquid… which was just ridiculous. However, Cas made a soft 'hm' of thought which snapped the other man out of his thoughts. "What would you like to know?"

"Anything," He replied as he sat down next to Cas on the couch.

A variety of emotions crossed Castiel's face. There was a soft sadness, then a thoughtful gaze that then melted into a soft smile ghosting over his steaming cup. "I have two half-brothers from my father's first marriage, Michael and Lucien."

Dean felt an unspoken something lingering on the tips of the other man's tongue; however, Castiel merely sunk back into his drink and back within his warm cocoon. "You guys close?"

There was a moment where Cas seemed to think for a moment, making it seem like the question was a difficult one… and perhaps it was. "I suppose. Michael and Lucien use to be really close just liked—" his face fell slightly as he cut himself off and though for a moment before continuing, "how—uh—brothers should be. They were close in age after all and they always use to have a joke about how they were Michael and Lucifer the archangels. They acted like it, love/hate relationship and all. But I didn't become close to them until after my mother died and I… started having problems with my father. We just didn't see eye to eye about some things and such. But they helped me get through that in their own way." Cas looked down at his cup and smiled slightly before continuing. "Michael actually lives a few minutes away with his wife and son. And Lucien has a place here but he likes to travel so he is sometimes in town sometimes not."

Dean drunk in every word the man said like it was the best tasting liquor. For some reason, he wanted to learn about Castiel, he wanted to know what made the man tick, what made him who he is. He wondered if that was normal. "Your brother Michael lives real close then. Does he get on your case often? I know I would if Sam lived a few streets down."

Cas smiled softly as though to a cherished or amusing memory or both. "He's been… real kind to me. I can't imagine… where I would be without his support." He made a sound of amusement. "He's probably a bit like you with the whole protective and over worried big brother vibe."

"I got that vibe going on already, do I?"

Cas glanced at him with an amused raised eyebrow that clearly affirmed that question.

"Yea, well, I'm starting to think it's not enough anymore." Dean muttered as he took a sip of his drink.

"With Sam?"

Dean sighed at the thought. "I don't even know what I'm doing. Poor kid's probably going to be traumatized for life."

Castiel looked at the man softly for a moment before he lowered his eyes in thought. "Well, you sound like a parent or in your case guardian already."

Dean chuckled at the comment that actually helped eased his worries some. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he wasn't alone in his mad scramble.

"Just start by loving him and the rest will come. You'll see. And if you need any help I'll do what I can."

Dean tries a smile. "Thanks."

They talk a bit longer about everything and anything until their cups were drained and minds muddled with a strange ease.

Castiel learned about Dean's job, his love for his impala and pie, his football carrier in high school that turned sour after injury, the fact he skipped out on prom and graduation, his lame excuse for a college education, his first time getting drunk, the time the accidentally set the house on fire during his father's second wedding, and his secret desire for a dog, maybe a nice golden retriever.

In turn, Castiel went through his geeky high school, the bullies he face, the amusement of watching said bullies get beat up by both his brothers, spiking the punch at prom, stealing into the teacher's rooms to steal copies of exams and printing copies to throw all over school, his drug induced first two years of college, straightening himself out to finish college, his love for art and music, and his job as an elementary teacher.

By now they were both pretty relaxed and Dean was in his white T-shirt with his jacket thrown somewhere on the floor. Castiel, in turn, finally removed his trench coat (which he folded neatly and placed on the couch handle) and loosened his tie a bit more. Dean may have stared just a little when he did that.

In fact, they both had somehow ended up sitting on the floor with their backs leaning against the stiff couch and one or two arms draped over the seat as they faced each other.

"You're an elementary school teacher? You're shitting me."

"Uh—"

"Figure of speech." Dean explained in amusement. He had also figured out that some 'expressions' was lost to the poor man. But he found himself saying them anyways just to see that bewildered look on Cas's face and that adorable tilt of the head… not that Dean finds men adorable.

"Right. Do I not look the part?"

"Do you wear that to you classes?" Dean motioned to his trench coat

Castiel glanced at the coat also. "Yes. I do. The kids are quite fond of it. They each take turns to sign the inside."

At Castiel's very serious expression, Dean had to laugh. "Man, you are something."

Cas flushed at the fondness in the other man's voice. He felt his heart speed up in delight to have earned that tone from him because for some reason, he wanted Dean's approval. He wanted it so bad it made him nervous.

"But that does explain your child whispering skills."

"I'm pretty sure I speak to them at a decent volume."

Dean shook his head in further amusement. "You're good with Sam, I mean."

Cas gave a thoughtful look at the comment and let a small smile of his own escape his lips. He enjoyed kids; he always had. "They're just easier to understand. They're honest. You can always tell what they're thinking, what they want, just by looking into their eyes. And they have an imagination that could fill the skies. I'm very fond of them."

"Start by loving them, right?"

The man's blue yes flashed with amusement at the sound of his own words. "Kids want one thing more than anything else in the word: to be loved. And it's common knowledge what occurs when you have and can give someone something they want."

"Secrets of the trade. Sneaky of you."

"Well, if I'm lucky, I get something precious in return."

"They're undying obedience?"

Castiel held Dean's gaze. "If I'm lucky, I get to be loved in return."

And suddenly, Dean wondered where the hell this man came from. It was like the heavens had forgotten to reel back in one of their feathery minions.

He had an urge to touch the man before him just to make sure such a person actually could exist on the same planet as the rest of them. There are some moments where things clarify like you've just downed a carton of Claritin. And he realized that moment exactly how damn gorgeous this man truly was. And then he wondered how such a person could have such a sad expression so deeply ingrained in their presence.

He subconsciously reached up to touch the side of the man's face with a feathery pressure as though he was afraid to shatter him. He reached up as he wondered how he could made that sadness go away. Suddenly, he wanted Castiel to never experience another ounce of pain because someone like him doesn't deserve a damn second of it.

"DEAN!" Dean snapped his hand back in surprise and looked towards the sound of the voice. He stood quickly both to avoid understanding what had happened and because a protective instinct in him wanted to run to Sam's side to make sure the boy was okay.

The sound of footfalls could be heard and he was vaguely aware of Cas standing up beside him.

"We're in here, Sam," Castiel called back.

Just when Dean was ready to start up the stairs, the form of the 8-year-old came barreling down the steps. He paused only a second to see them before he launched himself down the remaining steps, across the living room, and slammed into Dean's arms.

Dean, in surprise, actually fell back onto the couch that was thankfully in back of him and he allowed the boy to cling onto him with a death grip.

"Whoa. Easy there, sasquatch. You're getting almost too big to do that."

Dean felt the child grab on tightly as though afraid that if he let go, the only family he knew would vanish before his eyes. So the older brother froze there slightly awkwardly but allowing the tight embraces anyhow.

Castiel sat down slowly and quietly next to Dean and his younger brother. He soundlessly touches and guided Dean's arm to encircle the boy. The younger man looked at him before slowly tightening his embrace on Sam. He hugged his brother close and tight and closed his eyes for a moment. He then realized what he was afraid of. He realized the more he clung onto his brother, the more he would remember loss and the more he would fear losing the boy as well. And he also realized how selfish he had been, holding the boy at a distance because of his fear of pain.

"You're okay, Sammy."

"I thought he would take you like he took mom and dad."

"Who?"

Sammy buried his head into Dean's shirt. "The yellow-eyed demon."

Dean paused for a moment before a frown graced his expression. He looks towards Castiel almost helplessly with a light shrug of confusion. "He keeps talking about that."

Castiel was quiet at first, eyes trained on Sammy's shaking form. Slowly, his brows furrowed in a sad look. His quiet gaze was still as he spoke. "The headlights of the other car."

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry for the delay and then the short chapter. It was hard to figure out how to continue but I liked where it turned out going. Dean and Cas needed to get a little closer before I introduce anything else. I would have written more but I wanted to end it there. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please reviews. I would love to hear what you think and if you have anything you would like to address!<p>

Also, the quote "Just start by loving him and the rest will come" came from Lisa Kleypas's "Christmas Eve at Friday Harbor". It's a great Romance novel if you're interested in that genre.

Thanks for reading!


	5. Hold On Gently

**Pieces of a Whole : 5 : Hold On Gently  
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An: Sorry for the long, long delay! Just a few comments before we start.

For Corrupted Desires, oh my goodness! I didn't even notice I did that. The first two are right. Sammy starts off 6 then turns 7. But he should be 7 years old through the last two chapters. I'm so embarrassed! I will reupload those chapters … soon … maybe. But thank you for the catch! This is what happens when I keep changing Sammy's age around in my mind. I need to start paying more attention to that!

Thank everyone else for their reviews as well! I love to read each and every one of them! It gives me such inspiration!

* * *

><p>Dean woke to the wonderful smell of home-cooked bacon and eggs. As an additional reminded, his stomach grumbled in its urgency to find nutrition. He shifted slowly from the bed, careful not to disturb the tired boy besides him. His eyes lingered on his brother for a moment. Last night, after a quick dinner, Sam had promptly crawled into bed and was out like a light before his little head hit the pillows. The emotions that struck him after his nightmare must have taken its toll. In the end, Dean decided to let the boy sleep a little longer.<p>

Dean lurked downstairs in favor of finding the source of the aroma still dressed in his sleepwear which consisted of a white tank top and loose sweats. He stopped at the foot of the stairway next to the kitchen. He took a few steps onto the white tiles of the kitchen before leaning back against the wall in favor of watching the man before him busy around the stove. There was sometime pleasing about the scene, something Dean couldn't quite place his finger on. His eyes traced the apron on Castiel's body.

"You're awake."

His eyes snapped up at Castiel's voice and he offered a quick smile to hide the nervous flutters in his body from getting caught staring. He moved forwards towards the side of the Island and glanced at the emerging plates of food. "Need help?"

"I'll be fine," Castiel answered in a pleasant tone as he flipped the bacon before covering it slightly to prevent splashing.

Dean glanced at the two plates and the absence of a third then frowned. "Did you eat already?"

Castiel nudged the bacon strips around the pan as he absentmindedly responded, "I will be having breakfast with my brother today. Michael insisted I meet him."

"Oh." Dean may have felt a whisper of disappointment, "You didn't have to go through the trouble of making breakfast then."

Castiel visibly froze as though realizing something or remembering something, his movements slowing, and he looked taken back if not confused and distressed. He glanced down at the food he was making. Dean froze also in response, wondering if he had said something wrong. He shifted nervously, searching his brain for a remedy.

Luckily, Castiel spoke up again and continued his original motion. "I—enjoy cooking."

Dean was happy to drop the subject. Instead, he watched the other man for the few seconds, tracing the firm outline of his face highlighted by the morning light streaming in from the glass door to their right and the faint stubble that had begun to grow. He vaguely wondered if the man knew how blue his eyes looked under the light.

Castiel curiously glanced up from his pan when Dean fell silent and suddenly found his eyes locked in Dean's hot, almost scandalous gaze. His face burned and he quickly glanced down again, staring at the pan before him like it could save him from stroke he was surely to get from all the blood rushing through his head and face.

"I-uh…" Dean muttered awkwardly perhaps feeling the same rush over self-conscious embarrassment, "— should—uh—wake Sammy." He tapped the tabletop with conviction then awkwardly turned and walk towards the stairs.

Cas tried to keep his eyes on his pan; however, really could not help but subtly sneak a glance at Dean's departing figure. It should be a crime of the man to walk around in nothing but sweats and a wife-beater. He bit his lips in appreciation.

Several minutes late, just as Castiel finished pouring the orange juice and placing it on the table with breakfast, the little boy came barreling down the stairs followed closely by his brother. Sam noticeably took a good waft of the bacon aroma before melting with eager hunger. "Bacon," He muttered blissfully. He reached the kitchen island and climbed onto the chair to seat him in front of the first plate.

"Good morning, Sam."

Sam seemed to suddenly realize Castiel was in front of him and timidly shrinks back into the seat and look down, playing with his shirt. "Good morning," he muttered nervously.

Castiel smiled, placing the last dish in sink and drying his hands. "Did you get washed up?"

Sam nodded slowly.

"Brush your teeth?"

Another nod.

Cas smiled and handed the boy a fork. "Then by all means, enjoy."

Sam took the fork carefully and slowly stabbed his bacon and shoved it in his mouth just as Dean sat down beside him. "Did you thank Cas for breakfast, Sammy?"

"Thank you, Cas," the boy grumbled in mid-chew.

Castiel frowned but with a hint of amusement. "Chew and swallow first, words second," He chided gently. As they ate, he observed the boy with a curious eye. "Do you not brush your hair in the morning?" He noted the odd strands of hair sticking up from the boy's head.

Sam swallowed this time before answering. "_Dean_ never brushes his hair in the morning." Dean shrugged at this. It was true.

Castiel moved to retrieve something from a drawer a few paces away. "Just because your brother enjoys the homeless look, doesn't mean you should also."

Sam couldn't help but snicker at the face Dean made at that comment.

Cas, brush in hand, stood behind Sam and gently smoothed down stray hairs. Sam noticeably tensed and shrunk into his seat at first; however, after a few seconds seemed to grow content with the action. He continued to eat as Cas brushed out his untamed mane.

Dean watched the pair out of the corner of his eyes, chewing slowly as though any fast movement could break the unspoken miracle of an intimate moment happening before him. He pulled in a deep, relaxing breath and watched Sam melt with enjoyment at the attention, and then witnessed Castiel's eyes soften.

"All done," Cas muttered after a moment, patting Sam's hair.

"When will you be going out?" Dean asked reluctantly. Hopefully, Castiel wouldn't be late for his family breakfast tending to his new housemates.

The other man checked the clock at the question and frowned.

"Where you going?" Unlike his brother, Sam does not disguise disappointment very well.

"Breakfast with my big brother," he responded easily as he leaned against Sam's chair. Sam watched Castiel carefully. Dean was suddenly reminded of a puppy eagerly waiting for affection at your feet. "I shall be back by noon." Cas gave Sam one last affectionate squeeze of the shoulders before moving to clear off the table with Dean's help. Dean saw the boy noticeable beam up towards the other man.

-_supernatural_-

As always, Michael's house was nothing short of beautiful. Castiel could remember many days where he sat on the porch as they were now, staring at the large yard filled with wild flowers and trees. He would like a garden like this someday.

"You look better."

Castiel tore his eyes away from his brother's back yard and glanced at Michael. He stared at his older brother for a long time, considering the comment for a long moment. He did in fact feel better than he had in a long time. "I… slept better."

Michael smiled, reassured by the answer. Castiel timidly looked away, still sometimes taken back at how easy it was for Michael to show such brilliant emotions like genuine concern. "I was afraid you wouldn't show."

Cas observed his brother's warm, quiet presence before slowly sinking into a familiar guilt. He did reject quite a lot of invites the past year. He took in a breath as though he wanted to say something but the words fell to silent and Castiel turned back towards the garden. They sat there for a long minute, both wanting to say something but unable to. In that respect they were somewhat similar. They were unlike Anna, Balthazar, Lucien, or ….Jimmy; they were the silent, strong types as people would put it and have.

"I heard from Bobby about Dean." However, it did not, apparently, stop them from getting to the point.

Castiel didn't flitch or react. He had anticipated this moment. Michael's protective streak was silent but deadly. Any hint of cause for worry would have his older brother's dark blue eyes on the look-out. He had learned that through high school. Dean was apparently the target this time. Cas couldn't help but feel some amusement towards this fact.

"I was the one who invited him."

Michael studied his brother closely for a moment, analyzing that one statement for any hint of anything that might be cause for concern. Castiel vaguely wondered if he got anything out of it. He brother seemed satisfied with the comment for now. "I heard and I was surprised."

Castiel felt his brother try to gauge his reaction. But Cas himself was sure how to react. "I was surprise as well."

Michael frowned at this, considering this information carefully. "So… how long have you known him?"

"Since the funeral."

His older brother nodded slowly. "And… what goes he do? Like… for a job?"

Castiel gave a sigh, trying not to feel too peeved. "He fixes car."

"Right," Michael replied carefully, letting some awkward silence fill in for a moment before continuing, "So are you guys—"

"—Michael," Cas warned with a pointed look.

His brother instantly shut him mouth and tried his best to look innocent. "I'm just looking out for you."

"I know and I thank you, Michael. But we both know that everything you needed and wanted to know you drilled out of Bobby so I really don't know what you're look for asking me these things."

Michael frowned both at how well Cas knew him but more at how easily his brother brushed the whole thing off. "Castiel, we, your family, are lucky to see you one a week. You ask Anna to buy most of your groceries for you so you don't have to meet people. We're lucky if you let us on your porch let alone your house. And now you have a stranger and his kid living in your house?" He sounded genuinely bewildered if not a little hurt, "I just think you need to focus on you and healing from the accident and—"

"I know what I need," Castiel replied. He didn't notice the surprised look on his brother's face that he actually spoke up and so insistently. Instead he was focused on the words that seem to just fall from his mouth in a type of desperate monologue, "It's just that… Dean isn't like the people at the grocery store or at school or in this town. He didn't look at me like I'm some kind of freak or that I need saving or that I about to drown in my own sorrow. He—he doesn't judge me. He doesn't expect anything of me."

"Castiel, brother, we don't except anything from. We—I only want to help."

Cas looked towards his older brother and his eyes softened and furrowed in a deep, indescribable emotion. "I know. You have …. But," He opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to put his thoughts and emotions into petty words, "It's just when I'm talking to him, when he's there … for the first time, in a long time, I don't feel stuck. I don't feel like the world is passing by me and leaving me behind. Can't I—can't we just leave it at that?"

Michael seemed to have a faint understanding dawn in his eyes. His lowered his gaze in agony for his brother who he couldn't help. But if this guy is doing something to help cause that he cannot, he couldn't fault that. "Castiel…Just promise me you'll be careful."

Castiel blinked in surprised and tried a smile. "Promise."

Suddenly, there was an almost gentle relief between the two brothers as though someone had just helped remove some of the stifling air that had been hovering around them for a while now. It was like they just passed some horrendous milestone that neither would probably be wanted to visit anytime soon. Maybe, for just a second, they saw a little of the peace they once knew as kids.

Michael spoke up again, with a nonchalant tone as to not aggravate the subject too much further, "You know... maybe you should invite him to the family dinner."

The younger Novak frowned at the comment. "Isn't the key word in that 'family'?"

His older brother offered a charming grin, one he might have use to get away with many, many terrible deeds in his younger days. "Well… Bobby and Balthazar are going to be invited and since he's Bobby's almost son…"

Cas looked like was wanted to say something but realized he had no real argument against that. "I guess I can mention it."

Michael smiled and waited a moment as though waiting for Castiel to say something else. "So, does this mean you'll be going?"

Castiel reluctantly made an affirmative. "I doubt Balthazar will let me pass it up."

His brother gave an amused agreeing shrug. "Speaking of Balthazar, I heard he may be back sometime today. He might be back already, actually."

-_supernatural_-

Spending a little quality time with Sam was long overdue. The two brothers spent most of the rest of the morning going through reruns of old TV shows. After Dean had found out there was actually cable on the television in the living room, despite the TV being covered in cobwebs and dust from underuse, he found himself blissfully reacquainted with old programs he realized he hadn't seen since his parent's death.

Sam sat quietly on the couch besides him with one of his books propped open on his lap. Occasionally, the boy would perk up and half-watch some of Dean's shows; however, for the most part, Sam kept to his books. Dean smiled gently to himself at the sight. At least some things don't change.

Halfway through a mildly interesting rerun of 'Friends', Sam suddenly stood up. He placed his book down meaningfully before paused in momentary thought. He glanced shyly towards his brother and waited.

Dean had already been watching his brother since his sudden movement. "What's up, Sammy?"

"Is there…" Sam glanced down.

It was moments like these that broke Dean's heart. He could vaguely remember those blissful days before the accident when the young boy was still a fireball full of energy, unrestraint, untamed. He could remember his parents laughing and wondering if he'll ever grow out of it. He wondered what they would say seeing him now—seeing both of them struggling to stay afloat.

"I need to…" Sam tried again.

Dean searched what limited knowledge of children he had. "Water…? Bathroom?" He questioned while watching his brother closely. When the boy nodded at the second mention, Dean almost let out an audible breath of relief.

He glanced over the couch and towards the hallway. "Come on. Let's go see if we can find it."

Sam followed his brother as he walked past the open kitchen and dining room to the hallway with three closed doors facing them. He clearly remembered trying the door on the left the first day they were here. Castiel mentioned that was his room. That leaves the door on the right and the door straight before him. Those odds weren't too bad.

"Maybe we should split and conquer? You take the right and I'll take the one in front?" Dean offered with a grin.

"Okay," Sam muttered with amusement in his voice. The boy readily moved forwards to claim his door the same movement Dean did.

As they opened their respective doors, Dean narrowed his eyes at the dark within the room. He turned on the light right when he heard Sam call out. "Found it!"

Dean was rendered somewhat speechless with confusion as the sight once the light filled the room his door led to. As the bathroom door shut to his right signaling Sam's disappearance, Dean slowly took in the sight before him. It was clearly supposed to be the garage but sometime during its existence, its use was drastically changed. There was, for one, large carpet rugs, large lights installed in the ceiling of the room, a work desk, a large bookshelf, a dresser, and, most importantly, a bed, a bed that was half-made and that had Castiel's clothes from yesterday draped across the foot. It became devastatingly clear that Castiel was living here; this was Castiel's room.

Dean rocked back at the realization. Slowly, his eyes turned towards the door on his left. Then what was in that room for?

He glanced at the garage changed bedroom once last time before closing the lights and letting the door gently swing back shut. Dean then turned towards the room on his left again. He couldn't see why Castiel would lie. Maybe the man forgot? Maybe there was a reason? Maybe his stored all his secrets in that room and had it locked. Dean's paranoid mind could make up millions of ideas.

Before he knew it, Dean found himself in front of the room, itching to turn the doorknob. Just as he was reaching out for it—

"Dean?"

He almost visibly jumped and turned to see Sam staring at him with an odd look. "Uh… what's up?"

"I am going back to read," Sam motioned towards the living room.

Dean stared at his brother for moment before nodding. "Yea, sure, Sammy. I'll meet you there."

Sam gave him one last look before nodding and walking off. The older Winchester brother watched for a moment before turning back towards the door. Oh, screw it. He finally reached forwards and turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. He felt for the light and blinked when the room was finally illuminated.

The first thing that came to mind was how calm the room looked. The walls were a light blue shade, the table and cabinets a warm, rich wood, and the carpet was this interesting warm beige, a color he hadn't seen anywhere else in the house. For some reason, he decided this single room matched the house much more than the rest of it.

Suddenly, he was confronted with the details of the room that started to bright its real identity to light. His eyes swept across the bed. There were rockets decorating the bed sheets. He glanced to his right. There were finger paintings hung on the dresser. There were soccer jerseys, some trophies, and a few actual soccer balls littered to one side. Then on the shelves were the very objects Dean was dreading to see. His eye instantly focused onto one picture with Castiel, his wife, and his son, Carl.

His hand tightened around the doorknob in regret. He just walked into Carl's old room.

Suddenly, Sam comes running towards him at full speed and launches himself behind Dean's feet. His little arms tightened around dean's waist and his body shook slightly. However, before Dean could process what was going on…

"And who the bloody hell do you think you are?"

Dean whirled around to face the owner of the voice. It wasn't Castiel. The man who greeted his eyes was a stranger. His eyes narrowed in confusion and his hold tightened around his brother. "I think that's my line."

He narrowed his eyes. "Where's Cassie?"

"Cassie… ? _Cas_ is not here."

"So you say," Balthazar glanced around for a moment, and then let his eyes linger on the stairs for a moment before excusing the thought. No one has gone up there in a long time. If he would be anywhere, it would be either the living room or his garage bedroom. "CASSIE?" He called just for good measure.

"How did you get in?"

Balthazar raised his hand and twirled the extra key in his hand. "Perks of being the love of Cassie's life."

Dean's heart froze for a moment; something that would confuse him later when he was sure this man wasn't out to kill him or Castiel anytime soon. He stared hard at the man before him, trying to process that words that just came from his mouth. The stranger was a fairly decent looking guy with a musky unshaven aura that probably could easily bring any one he wanted to their willing knees. However, any suggestions that Cas may be in some kind of relationship with the man just felt wrong, painfully wrong. There was just no way. 'Cas didn't say anything being in a relationship.'

"Didn't talk about me much, did he?" The man mused. Dean suddenly realized he said that last though aloud.

Dean couldn't help but feel a twitch in his eyes whenever the man spoke. He couldn't decide if it had something to do with the accent or if—screw it. He disliked this man and that was it. Forget the reason behind it. "Who are you? I won't ask again."

Just as Balthazar was probably about to answer with something snippy and clever, they were both interrupted by a slightly breathless voice.

"Balthazar."

Both men turned then attention to Castiel who stood at the beginnings of the small hallway, watching both men and one confused child with a wary eye.

From what Castiel could tell right that moment that may have been missed by a more untrained eye was that both men were ready to more or less beat each other given any excuse. As fascinating as that was, Castiel was clearly distressed by the thought. Unfortunately, that was the least of his worries.

Castiel's eyes widened as he took a startled step backwards. His eyes followed the line of Dean's arm into the open door of that room, the same room he has been avoiding for a long time. The same room he has dreams or maybe they were nightmares about. He took another unsteady step backwards.

Dean followed the deer caught in headlight look and felt his own eyes widen in realization and renewed guilt. "Cas, I can explain."

"Good going with the Pandora box, boy. That's bloody good way to dig up some skeletons."

"You know what? This is none of your business."

"Castiel's wellbeing is my business, something that clearly escapes minimal brain ce-"

"Sam," again, both men were silences by one word from Castiel's lips. 'Odd choice of words,' would have been Balthazar's choice of response until he realized exactly who 'Sam' was when the boy, who had stayed hidden behind Dean up until now, bolting from them both and rushed into Castiel's arms.

Castiel soothed the boy gently and offered a smile just for him. "I'm sorry if my friend, scared you, Sam." He muttered in a light and easy tone, "That's my friend, Balthazar. He's a good guy so don't you worry."

Sam glanced at the mentioned man before looking down at his feet while Castiel held both his hands in a reassuring manner.

"Can you do me a big favor, Sam?" The boy slowly looked up at Castiel and nodded, "Can you give me a few minutes to talk to my friend and your brother?"

Sam was hesitant. He didn't want to leave his brother to this stranger but Castiel said he knew the man. The boy's conflict was not lost to Cas. The man stroked Sam's hair in an affectionate manner. "Don't worry, Sam. I'm just going to show Balthazar out then have a chat with Dean. It won't take long."

"Wha—" Balthazar started to complaint; however, the look his friend gave him causes his words to fall silent.

The boy finally nodded, glancing back to Dean for a moment to get his brother's okay. At Dean's nod, the young boy ran up the stairs to his room or probably eaves dropping at the door of his room.

After the footfalls of the child died, Balthazar saw no reason to restrain himself. "Darling, do you need me to throw this guy out for you?"

Castiel gave his friend a sharp look, one that probably kept Dean from punching Balthazar. Cas walked towards his door followed closely by the two other men. He finally turned back with his hair on the doorknob. "Please leave, Balthazar."

"What? ME?" Dean tried not to look too pleased when Balthazar threw him a bewildered and irritated look. However, when Castiel clearly gave a look of strong conviction, Balthazar's tone changed. "Cas. I think I get a little more than that."

Castiel looked down at the comment as though willing himself to remain strong. "Balthazar, we've known each other for a long time now and yes, perhaps I do own you more, however, on my own time. Right now, I need you to leave so I can talk to Dean alone."

"Cassie," Balthazar tried one last time, holding his hand out.

Castiel's eyes softened. "Pleased."

After taking a breath in defeat, he allowed himself to walk over to Cas and the door. He watched as his friend open the door for him to leave. He gave Dean a hard look before turning back again. "You have my number, darling."

Cas gave him a long look. "Yes."

Balthazar grinned somewhat mischievously. He moved closer to his dear friend until Castiel had press his back closer to his door and to tilt his head back slightly to see Balthazar's expression. The man took advantage of that and leaned down to capture Castiel's lips with his own. The kiss was short and sweet and something he, Cas, and everyone knew were accustomed to as a way to express their odd friendship. However, that didn't mean Dean was. In fact, Balthazar could have sworn if Dean had his way, his beautiful hair would be on fire right about now. He gave Cassie one last peck on the lips before stepping back and turning his attention to Dean. He smiled, "keep an eye on my man, will you, Dean?"

Castiel had to resist an amused grin as he shut to door behind Balthazar. He looked back to Dean shortly as considered the irritation that flashed across his house-mate's eyes. However, he chose to ignore it for now in favor of another vital issue they had distracted themselves from.

To insure the problem was not forgotten by Dean anytime soon, Castiel made his way across his home at the brisk pace. He stopped in front of Carol's old room. His body turned tense on its own accord and his eyes hardened. He slowly moved towards to turn off the light and pull the door shut with a soft click.

He then turned around to find Dean's very guilty-looking expression. As much as the anger in his body wanted to hear the other man grovel and beg for forgiveness, a part of him also did not want to talk about it at all. He wanted to forget it ever occurred. This instinct seemed to win because he ignored Dean and walked over back to the living room to turn off the TV.

"Cas," Dean managed weakly, trying to find a proper way to begin his apology for clearly intruding the other man's privacy.

Castiel froze for a moment but promptly began to actively ignored Dean again. He picked up the books on the couch and table and proceeded to walk them over to kitchen counter. However, Dean grabbed his arm before he could walk past. He stopped and threw Dean's arm off.

"Come on, Cas. I'm just trying to—" He started to say but looked away for a moment, "I just want to—" He watched as Castiel walked to the kitchen island and placed the books on the counter. "Did you lie to me?"

"What?"

Dean asked again, "Did you lie to me about the room?"

The other man turned and looked at him in confusion. Dean sighed, struggling to say something else, something in explanation for his sudden comment; however, Castiel beat him to it. "Why do you care? It doesn't concern you."

"Excuse me?"

Castiel finally turned around to face Dean head-on. "I don't need or want someone digging around my life trying to find some way to intrude on—"

"No," Dean stopped the other man instantly, not exactly mad but not exactly very thrilled looking either, "Look. I get you have secrets. I get you're coping with a lot more hell than many people have to deal with in a life time. I know you probably don't need me or Sam here walking all over your memories. Trust me, I get it better then you may realize. But don't do that."

Castiel look away, suddenly becoming uncomfortable for the genuinely honest expression on Dean's face. "Do what?"

"Don't tell me not to care. Don't tell me it doesn't concern me. Don't push me away because I don't go easy or kindly."

Suddenly, words were falling out of his mouth, words he didn't really mean. "Don't you get it? I don't want you to care or to be concern. I'm doing just fine without you. I don't need your help or Balthazar's help or Michael's help. I'm not going crazy."

"Cas."

And, before Castiel realized it, something was let loose; something he couldn't control. "Don't you think I don't know how it looks? Don't you think I don't know it's wrong to keep everything he's ever touched?" His hands fisted and he pressed it against his head as tears threatened to escape his eyes and stream down his face, "I know it doesn't help or fix anything. I know he's not going to come back and sleep in his bed or that I'm going to find him in there one day. I KNOW okay? I just-I—I just—" Cas forced out in sobbing gasps.

"Castiel," Dean muttered softly like he was talking to a confused child. He moved forwards, towards the crying man slowly, "slow down, Cas. Slow down. Calm down," he whispered softly like he does with Sam when the boy was having his melt downs. He moved close enough to slide a warm hand onto the trembling form before him. "I'm not judging you Cas. I will never-"

In a sudden movement, Castiel buried himself in Dean's arms and Dean found himself pulling Cas in a tight embrace. He tightened his hold when he felt the smaller man trembling.

"Don't do this to yourself. There's nothing wrong with what you're doing. Fuck everyone who thinks otherwise. There's nothing wrong with wanting to hold onto something you love," Dean brushed Castiel's strand of loose hairs from his eyes when the man looked up at him. He felt his face growing hot with embarrassment, unaccustomed to receiving such an intense, emotional look from another human being. However, if he knew anything about losing loved ones and wanting them back, he knew he should continue. He breathed in deeply before wrapping his arms around Castiel again, "Don't talk yourself out of your feelings. It's okay to miss your son. It's okay to want himself. And it is o-fuking-kay to feel sad and frightened and lonely and angry and everything else you need to feel."

"God, I miss him so much every day, every waking moment. It's been so long but I still miss him," he muttered into Dean's shirt.

"I know," he muttered back because he did. He knew very well how hard it can be.

"I don't think I'll ever stop missing him."

Dean closed his eyes and searched himself for the right answer, "I don't think we're supposed or even able to."

Castiel never knew until that moment how good it felt to not be alone. Every other moment he could remember about having a break-down when confronted by the sudden grief of his loss, he had been alone. During those times, he assumed it was the only and perhaps best way to deal with it all. Because he knew how weak and pathetic he must look; how unstable he had become.

However, Dean did make him feel pathetic or incapable. He made Castiel feel that things he was going through, the pain, the hate, and sadness were actually normal. It suddenly felt like he didn't need to hide it. It felt like it was actually alright and there was no need to force a change or put on a brave face to save others' comfort.

And he suddenly realized now how wonderful physical contact was in such moments. It was the warmth in a deep cold darkness; the light at the end of the tunnel. It was a constant reminder that there was something more to life than just pain, something he has been forgetting.

He felt Dean rubbed gentle circles on his back in a soothing motion and closed his eyes in something so close to happiness that his heart ached.

* * *

><p>AN: Not a very pleasant introduction for Balthy but he's a darling so I hope you will begin to enjoy him more as the story continues. Thank you again for reading and I hope you will drop some input in your reviews.<p> 


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